I couldn't believe I got reviews and views so fast! Thanks to everyone who came on, as well as the people who reviewed so far: Hunter06, Destiny, afeleon276, thor94, and CharmedMilliE.

Two chapters! And it's finals week! Okay, so I have some of this story written and being edited by me, waiting to be posted.

Anyway, this is to pretty much finish off the prologue, so it's not too long. Delia's mother meets Ash!

Disclaimer: Still don't own. *sits in corner and cries*


The next day, Delia paid for her room and snuck out of the hotel, Ash clutched protectively to her chest. He was watching everything over her shoulder interestedly. She'd spent the morning pointing at him and saying, "Ash," over and over until he called himself Ash. Then she pointed at herself, and said, "Mama," until he called her Mama all the time.

"Mama!" he said in surprise as a woman on a bicycle rode past. "Mama. O-okay!"

She smiled, and went to a clothes store. Hitching the blanket higher around him, she awkwardly freed one hand and grabbed a white shirt and small blue jeans. Thinking about the slight chill in the air, she grabbed a blue jacket, and, knowing that people would be looking for him, she grabbed a red and white baseball cap.

Delia hurried to the register, where she slid her trainer's card under the teller's machine. When it went through, she carried Ash to the changing rooms and dressed him in the new clothes. He squirmed and protested, but stopped when she began to point to each article of clothing, naming it, and listening to him repeat the names, correcting him until he said them right.

She slipped the hat onto his head, and left the store. Ash was babbling animatedly in what she assumed was the Pokémon language. She got a few weird looks, but mostly people smiled and chuckled when they heard his enthusiasm.


The trip to Pallet Town took a little over a week. Delia was exhausted when she knocked on her mother's door.

The door flew open, and her mother stared at her for a moment. "Come in, come in." her mother ushered her into the living room and drew the blinds. "Delia, what is going on?"

Delia set Ash down on the blue sofa. He poked the cushion, glanced up at her, and slipped to the floor, curling up on the brown rug and rubbing his cheek against the soft fibers.

"Delia? How long have you had a son?" her mother, Lauren, demanded of her only daughter.

Delia sighed, raking a hand over her face. "About two weeks? A week and a half? I'm not sure."

"You're not sure? Explain."

Delia broke and told her mother everything. Finding Ash, saving him, naming him, bringing him here. Lauren listened patiently, without comment.

"I'm giving up being a trainer. I want to raise him as my own. I need to keep him safe." Delia finished wearily.

Lauren eyed her for a moment before deciding. "I'll look after him for a while. You need to sleep and eat." Delia opened her mouth to argue. Lauren held up a hand, forestalling any protests. "You're exhausted. Let me watch him."

Delia agreed and went up to her old room with one last glance at Ash, who had stopped nuzzling the brown carpet and was staring after her, his brown eyes confused.

She pointed at Lauren. "Gran." She told him. "Stay." She'd already taught him stay.

Ash looked over at Lauren, who smiled at him. "Gren?" he repeated to her.

"Gran." Lauren corrected gently.

"Gran." He parroted.

Her smile widened. "Good." She turned her sharp gaze on Delia. "Bed. Now." Delia scurried up the stairs. Her mother always made her feel like a young girl. But Delia also knew she needed a break. Taking care of Ash and watching for threats had really taken it out of her.

She fell into bed and passed out into a dreamless sleep.


Ash watched Gran as she sat down across from him on the soft ground. "Okay?" he asked. "Gran, okay?"

She smiled, and her amber eyes were soft. "Ash. I'm okay. And you?"

He frowned. You? She pointed at him. "Ash." He responded the way Mama had taught him.

Gran made the choking sound that made her eyes crinkle up in smiles. He eyed her uncertainly. "Okay?" he asked.

She wiped her eyes. "I'm good, Ash. I'm okay."

He smiled, showing his teeth in a friendly way. "Good. Okay."

She stood, and he followed her into a sun-colored room. She handed him a hard thing with a sandwich on it with her wrinkled paw. She made sounds he didn't know yet, and nodded to him. He tried to bite into the thing. It hurt his teeth. It was some kind of smooth rock. She took it from him and handed him only the sandwich. He bit into that. It was good. It tasted like nuts and berries mashed up together.

"Sanwich!" he exclaimed, mouth full. She choked again, her eyes crinkling up again.

So, how did I do? Review please. And always constructive criticism is good. Just telling me you like it is wonderful as well.